


In Un'Altra Vita

by NatMatryoshka



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Carnival, Celebrate the Waking, Celebration: Carnival of Venezia, F/M, Fluff, I also have a thing for masked balls, I have a thing for hands, Kylo Ren Redemption, Reylo Fanfiction Anthology, Slow Burn, Venezia | Venice, Visions in dreams, mention of bullying, mention of sexual activities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatMatryoshka/pseuds/NatMatryoshka
Summary: "Sometimes, after hundreds of failures you finally get something precious, don’t you believe it?”Rey, a reporter, falls in love with Venezia and its Carnival. Ben Solo, a photographer, starts to dream about a mysterious boy and a world he doesn't know.Maybe their souls are more similar than they think.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am -  
> I'm so happy of being part of this project, you can't imagine how much. Venezia is one of my favourite cities ever, I almost cry everytime I have the chance to visit it, and I love to put a part of my country in what I write! ❤  
> (Btw, the title means "In Another Life" in Italian!)  
> I'll try to update my fic with one-two chapter per week (according to my working schedule... *sobs*), so stay tuned!

 

_“The only rule of travel is: don’t come back the way you went. Come back changed.”_

**\- Anne Carson**

 

 

 

 

They had left a blue sign with the name of the station on it, _“Venezia Mestre”_ , behind them, but Rey’s mind was already lost in her fantasies.

 

Her nose pressed on the window like a curious child, she watched the city lights run and disappear before her eyes, lazy glass fireflies too slow to follow the train. Beside her, Ben was listening to some music, staring at nothing in particular, while Luke checked the name of their hotel on a leaflet he had put between the pages of the magazine he was reading. Neither of them seemed to be thrilled by the idea of being close to the lagoon, and that soon Venezia, a city full of history and wonders, would have been their next stop. Luke was the same as always, thought Rey with a smile: so absorbed in his own small world that he just forget about everything outside of it, as if it didn’t exist. And Ben… sometimes, just trying to figure out what he was thinking or feeling was a mystery. And like every mystery, it needed a curious mind to solve.

 

Venezia was close: if she looked carefully in the darkness, she could see the sea vibrating, a seagull gently setting down on the water. Some 0f the passengers stood up, grabbing their coats and scarves to prepare themselves to the cold February air. Luke waved at them, meaning they had to collect their luggage and help him with the bag containing their photography equipment. Their laptops were there too, on the compartment above their heads. Only Ben could load and unload all that luggage: after all, he was the tallest among them. Rey continued to daydream.

When Luke had mentioned their journey, a week before, he was sitting in his study. It was a bright, winter day, and he smiled like a man who just heard a great news.

“We’ll go to Italy next week” he said, greeting Rey. “I know someone who might host us. She wants us to report on the Carnival of Venezia… she also gave me some good hotels’ names.” He paused, then gave a soft chuckle and added. “Do you like the idea?”

“You already know the answer.” Her eyes were brighter than ever. She had begun to pack her suitcase and, a week later, she was on the train, eager to start with her very first report in a foreign country. The first with her mentor, Luke Skywalker, the man who taught her everything about his job.

And Ben. He was their photographer, his pictures captured the beauty around him like no other. He didn’t like to show off his work, but one day he had challenged himself into taking part to a university photography contest: Rey was there, admiring his peculiar style for the first time. There was a great sensibility within those photos, but also loneliness and sadness, with a spark of hope in the background. He loved landscapes and stars, big, dark skies dominated by constellations, with the moon in a corner. She had praised him and then they started talking about books and art, two passions they shared. Rey had discovered that Ben was Luke’s nephew only months after that day (Luke, the reporter her relatives had introduced her to!): sometimes, he had taken part to his uncle’s travels to take some photos and work with him.

What did they say? _What a small world this is!_ It was small, indeed, and full of surprises, if two people in a sort of past relationship found themselves in the same place, sharing a job that involved both of them.

 

They crossed _Santa Lucia_ station’s threshold: beyond the footpath, the sea hugged the city in the most evocative of ways. Water moved through canals and streets to caress the houses and the buildings, becoming part of that magical city. The sky was dark, but they could still see the big shadow of _Santa Lucia_ ’s church in the distance, greeting all the tourists with its dome. Luke pushed his luggage to the ferry boat gate, silently gesturing for them to follow him. Ben looked around squinting his eyes: he always did that when he saw something really interesting. Rey couldn’t help but touch his hand, and she enjoyed his surprise for a little moment, that moment when their hands were so close no one could divide them, not an emotion, or a faraway voice. Until they remembered they had to follow Luke to the gate, and that sudden awareness broke the spell.

The gate was like a bus platform leading the passengers directly to the train-boat. There were few tourists – only some commuters and two French women were on board, rubbing their hands together and complaining about the cold – so their crossing was pleasant, with a calm sea. Rey observed the city around her, bathed in the lights of lampposts; she couldn’t just sit down and relax. So many great things surrounded her, so many wonders to discover. She knew Venezia thanks to her friends’ stories and the documentaries she had watched, and now that she was there, on that boat, caressed by night breeze, she couldn’t believe her eyes. She would have stayed there all night long to look around, but Luke gently touched her arm after a couple of minutes; they had reached their stop. Their hotel – and their dinner – was waiting for them.

Venezia’s streets – _calli_ , they called them in Italian, a melodious name, thought Rey – were narrow and covered in stones, enclosed by houses, windows and doors. They were full of life, even at that late hour, with people turning on the lights behind the curtains, or pulling back laundry that was hanging. There were plants in vases, gerani still in bloom and small evergreen shrubs, to lighten up the shutters. They crossed the alleys bringing with them the monotonous sound of the suitcase’s wheels on the ground, leaving _calli_ and ancient buildings behind them, then they reached a small courtyard surrounded by houses ten minutes after. In the middle, a three-story building painted in pink made its appearance, alongside a wrought-iron sign with its name on it: _“La Colombina”_.

It must be a lovely sight in the daylight, Rey thought: the sun would have surely shone on the trees, giving brand new colors to the stone, too. But the building was beautiful even in the night, welcoming, lightened up by the lamps behind every window on the first floor. The sea sang a song, running through canals with its bubbling voice, passing under small red stone bridges, like the one not so far from the hotel. Lampposts casted golden spheres of light on the liquid surface. Rey breathed in deeply: the air smelled like winter, that scent of cold and burnt wood that filled all the winters she had lived in her life. It was good, that smell tickled her nose, a kind of magic with it. It made her happy, so happy she entered the hotel almost bouncing, amazed by all the things she had seen. Ben walked ahead; Luke was already in.

The interior of the hotel was neat, with a mixture of ancient and new furniture that really suited the city mood. Rey placed her luggage down, on a soft blue carpet decorated with small stars and then waited for Luke, who was doing the check-in at the reception desk, where a blond man examined their identity cards and checked their numbers. Some guests were reading newspapers sitting on big, brown sofas, three children followed their parents through a hallway probably leading to the dining room. Ben, standing in front of her, had picked a booklet from one of the displays on the reception desk and was browsing through it: _“Murano, Burano and the other islands”_ said the cover, and Rey tried to connect those names to the research done before leaving; she remembered that Murano was famous because of its decorated glass, while Burano made itself a name for hand-made laces.

Rey closed her eyes, and the picture of an entire dress made of fragile petal-like white lace, filled her mind. It was not part of something she had read before, she was sure: the girl in that dress smiled timidly, her face so brilliant in the sun that was impossible to give her a name. She stared at the sea, twisting her torso back and forth like someone who was impatient and scared for something big at the same time. She shook her hair, decorated with a red flower, and smiled again. Then she stretched a hand, and her fingers were so tiny, so delicate and…

Luke and Ben moved towards her at the same time, making that daydream disappear. Rey shook her head and opened her eyes wide, returning to her senses. So strange--that fantasy was so real, so vivid. So real she was surprised not to see the girl next to her when she turned her head. Luke was talking on the phone with someone while putting back his identity card.

“Yes, we’re here. The travel was good, very pleasant.” The phone firmly blocked against his shoulder, he gave some coins to the girl who offered to help them with their luggage. “Hotel La Colombina, yeah. The one you told us about, in _Salute_ quarter. Very nice, we’ve just finished checking-in… and we’re hungry.” He laughed. “Oh no, don’t worry Maz, I think they haven’t served the dinner yet, we still have time to rest a bit. We can meet tomorrow in _San Marco_ ’s Square, if you still want to see us, of course. Your hotel is there, right? Good… good, then.” He put his bag on the suitcase. “See you tomorrow! Have a nice evening, Maz. You’re always the best.”

Luke spoke to both his apprentices, eyes full of a subtle excitement Rey had learned to recognize only with the passing of time. “Maz. She’s an old friend of mine, she wanted to know if we are alright… and she’ll have breakfast with us tomorrow at _San Marco_ ’s Square.”

Rey almost jumped, unable to push back her joy. “The reporter? She’s the woman who asked you to write about Venezia?”

“More or less.” Luke guided them to the staircase, along with the girl with the luggage, waiting for them. “She’s a VIP here, she’s been around for many years… and she’s seen many Carnivals, more than she likes to admit. If you’re writing a story and you’re searching for someone who knows Venezia, Maz Kanata is the right person.”

“I’ve heard about her before”. Ben furrowed his brow, collecting his memories to find a face to match that name. “Isn’t she one of my father acquaintances, a woman wearing glasses? Small figure, big eyes… she owns a restaurant, or something like that.”

“That’s right. Maz is surely a woman of many talents.” Luke took three magnetic cards the girl gave him. “So… number 26, 27 and 28. We have three single rooms. The beds seem comfortable, from what I’ve seen on their website. We have a mini-fridge and a TV, too! Rey, is 28 okay for you?”

She grabbed the card and pushed her suitcase in front of the door. “Ben, 27 is for you. I take number 26… and now, if you excuse me, I’m going to put my luggage down and get changed. We’ll meet in… thirty minutes? Down, in the hall?”

“Perfect.” The boy nodded to him, watching his uncle enter the room, the door closed behind his back. They were the only two people left in the hallway, he and Rey, in the silence of the evening slowly turning to night.

 

“Single beds? What a pity… I hoped they made a mistake and gave us double rooms. It would have been more comfortable!” She was so sure she made Ben laugh a bit. “I don’t like single rooms. Luckily, yours is not far from mine.”

“I can offer you a place in my room, if you’d like.” Ben gently pushed Rey’s trolley bag inside her room, helping her to open the door; magnetic cards rarely worked at the first attempt. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to sleep on the floor… or you can ask an attendant for a camp bed. Or you can set a sort of bed in the walk-in closet.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Rey opened the door for Ben, returning the favor. She let the card slip into his hand, caressing it just to get a glimpse of his warmth and felt that he was happy like her, that he started to love adventure even if his way of showing emotions was totally different from hers. A gentle warmth came from him, maybe a bit shy but not like the sad, cold feeling of loneliness Ben Solo brought with him before.

“Thank you, Rey. You know, if you need something you can knock at my door whenever you want.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She had probably blushed, and hoped with every inch of her being that the dim light helped us to hide it. “I’ll take Luke as an example. See you in the hall?”

She didn’t need a confirmation, but it was always nice to hear one from his lips.

“Ok. See you there in thirty minutes.”

She watched him close the door behind his back like Luke, their teacher, had done before. Then she turned the light on and let her gaze wander from the bed to the windows, to the desk with a small TV on it and an even smaller mini-fridge, to the wooden coat closet, its door left ajar. Everything seemed very cozy, the bed wasn’t so small as she had imagined and the room smelled like lavender and lily of the valley air fresheners. Her suitcase was on the floor, and Rey left it there. She put off her jacket, laying on the bed with a sigh of satisfaction. It was really comfortable.

Had she stuck her ear to the wall, she’d have probably heard Ben setting his clothes in the wardrobe or exploring his new room, opening the drawers, the fridge. Having him so close made her shiver, like she could read his mind and accompany him even while a wall separated them; they had been so close ages before. When she had discovered that Luke wanted him as their photographer, she had felt a sort of shiver down her spine, a pleasant one. Her stomach was full of those famous butterflies everyone talked about. She touched the wall, closed her eyes searching for that warmth she had sensed before, like an aura always following him. Ben was quiet and full of thoughts, calm like a gentle wind during the spring, but he could have become a storm in every moment, without a single warning. She knew both aspects of him very well, Rey thought.

She smiled to herself and sipped a glass of water; someone – a waiter, probably – had left a bottle of cold water for the new guest, as a welcome gift. Ben knew she didn’t like to sleep alone because Rey had told him before, with the ironic voice she used to break the ice when she didn’t know well what to say. He had laughed and teased her: _so you’ll sleep in my room when we travel together_. He was rarely so witty, and the light that shone in his eyes was beautiful. It made her feel well, she cherished it like a treasure, keeping his glance, the small golden sparks in his eyes, in her mind. His hair had been so soft when she touched it, running her fingers inside the black locks, more and more soft. _Alright. Are you ready to get kicked? I kick a lot when I’m sleeping_ , she said, and they both laughed.

For a moment, Rey had been tempted to kiss him. She wondered about the taste of lips, so soft and full. She had looked right into his eyes, caressing his hair while time stopped moving around them… but maybe it was her who suddenly stopped everything, afraid of him being uncomfortable. She only remembered her forehead against Ben’s, so delighted she wouldn’t have desired anything else. He was there, breathing with her, and he seemed to have forgotten what he had told her before, when anger filled his every word and he went on fighting against himself, with the energy of one who couldn’t come to terms with his own existence.

 

_“Why do you even keep trying, Rey? You know I can’t change. I hurt the people around me and I can’t stop, even if I want to. I hurt my father. I made my mother suffer. Why do you want to be the next so badly?”_

 

She warded off that sad thought absentmindedly and took another sip of water. She didn’t want to bring it back, not now that she wanted to forget those parts of their past together, fights that made her tired. Ben needed to start over, she needed it too. Maybe between Venezia’s canals and wonders, during that unexpected travel. Sounded like a good plan.

Rey opened her trolley bag, then she grabbed the remote control to switch the TV on, searching for a music channel. She had some time left until dinner and her only wish was to use it in the best of ways.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Venice never quite seems real,  
> but rather an ornate film set suspended on the water.”  
> \- Frida Giannini

Saturday morning.

In London, she’d have woken up late, wandering around in her pajamas with a latte, more than willing to to delay her work until the afternoon. She’d have sent a message to Poe or Paige, asking them to meet somewhere in the evening. Or she’d have sat in her favorite armchair, with a book or a crosswords magazine, to relax her mind until the real beginning of her day. She liked to take it easy on Saturdays.

During her travels, she just couldn’t wake up after half past seven in the morning, not even setting the alarm clock a bit later than usual. Luke had reassured them they’d have to met their hosts at nine, but she couldn’t stay in bed and relax, not with a city full of seawater and stories beneath her feet. She got up and, before getting dressed, she lifted the shutter to look out of the window; the weather seemed nice, cold but lovely. The sea was glimmering, the sun reflected its light on the few evergreen leaves left and played with their colors, just like Rey had imagined the evening before. Everything seemed lively, full of energy. She took a shower, then got dressed while singing and grabbed her bag. She put a small notebook inside of it, brand new and ready to be filled with interviews, thoughts, and stories. New stories.

Ben and Luke joined her a few minutes later. They didn’t speak, but they probably couldn’t manage to stay in their beds any longer, just like her. Ben brought his camera along, Luke was typing messages on his phone, one to Maz saying they were going to meet her and one to Leia, his twin sister (and Ben’s mother), to say they had arrived safe and sound and were enjoying the city. They reached the ferry boat station, waiting for the one going to San Marco Square. There were more tourists compared to the day before, people swarming out of bars and residences, women with strollers or simply commuters who worked in Venezia. For that reason, they had to wait for the next boat. But they weren’t in a hurry; Rey wanted to memorize every detail, every single corner, from the recesses where pigeons hid their nests to the furthest houses, that disappeared beyond canals and alleys.

Finally the ferry boat had left the dock and the buildings around them began to meet them.

The girl rushed to the bulwark, leaning on it with both elbows and leaning out as much as she could to get a better view of the lagoon. She’d seen the more mysterious side of Venezia the night before, but now the daylight showed her new colors she’d never imagined to be able to admire on the front of the buildings. She was astonished by the view, while the boat glided on the water running along the hotels and museums, landings where _gondole_ were fastened to colorful wooden poles, bar and restaurants full of tourists having their breakfasts on small docks suspended above the water. Everything felt part of a dream, but she was awake and couldn’t decide where to keep her gaze to take in all that beauty around her.

She felt Ben getting closer to her and she moved slightly aside to leave him some space, so he could take a look at the city as well. He opened the lens of his camera and took a couple of shots, then closed it again. Rey looked at his hands intently in wonder; they were so long and slender. Elegant, just like him.

“Have you ever wondered who could have lived in those palaces during the centuries?”

Ben’s deep voice shook her from her fantasies. He seemed to be looking at something far away, something unreachable, and it was just like he had voiced his thoughts without paying much attention to his words, while he was playing absentmindedly with his camera bag. Rey looked at a building with its sculpted stone balcony, shutters closed, hiding lives they didn’t yet know about.

“Always” she admitted, sure he could understand her somehow. “I like to fantasize about how they spent their days, how their life was when there were no telephones, no internet to fill it. How they had fun, and what they wished for looking at the sky? It would be interesting to know, but maybe it’s more fun to try and figure out by ourselves.”

“Yeah.” Ben moved his fingers, dancing them on the metallic side of the boat. “Someone once told me that Venezia is like a kaleidoscope: it’s hard to take your eyes off all the things you see and come back to your life, once you’re wandering its streets. I haven’t thought about it, but I got this exact impression.”

“It’s so unreal… and beautiful. Water, buildings… everything. Thinking a city like this exists, and has existed for all these years, it’s a sort of miracle.”

Rey felt his breath close to her neck, gentle and steady. He was calm, and that awareness made her heart pound with joy. Calmer than she had ever seen him. She followed him and they crossed _San Marco_ ’s stop platform, their destination. The square was waiting for them not much further, introduced by the tall bell tower: a pointed, green roof on a long body covered in red bricks. Once they had entered the square, they stood still for a moment to look at the beautiful _San Marco_ ’s basilica, its sculptures that seemed to reach the sky, its big, golden domes and blue mosaics. Tourists were everywhere, taking photographs or lining up to visit the church, surrounded by pigeons. They were so many, grey white and black, and they didn’t seem to be bothered by the crowd at all. Luke looked at them and smiled.

“When I was a child, my parents took Leia and me to Italy for a two week holiday. I remember that we tried to feed the pigeons some crumbs, obviously with great results: almost every bird in the square began to chase us” he laughed. “Now it’s forbidden. Hungry pigeons will have to search for food without human help, not that they couldn’t do it from before. I have to send a picture to your mother, Ben. We have dear memories of Venezia, of Maz. It’s a pity Leia didn’t have some free time to join us. She would have surely enjoyed a small holiday.”

 

*

 

The hotel where Maz Kanata sojourned was very different from theirs, smaller and formal but still cozy. The hall shone with refined porcelains, red carpets, golden wood and eighteenth- century armchairs. Waiters dressed in dark green were greeting the guests, who all seemed to be rich and carried lots of luggage and bags from famous boutiques. For the first time, Rey felt intimidated by all the splendor around her: she knew no one would have paid attention to her, but she threw some worried glances to her black sneakers and her green parka, in contrast with the hotel’s atmosphere. But Luke was determined to catch up with their host and led them forth, past a hallway full of old paintings to a large room. At the opposite side of the room, near one of the big windows looking at the sea, a small, dark-skinned woman with short hair sat on a white, puffy chair. She saw Luke moving close to her and her smile grew big, almost too big and shiny for her small face. Maz gestured with her hand to greet him.

“Maz! How’re you doing? Venezia caught you again?”

Luke shook her hand with affection. The woman wore a pair of metallic glasses, with rounded lens that made her big eyes even bigger and darker. She was not young, Rey made note of it, but she had the stamina of someone who had spent their years in the best way, not wasting them.

“Luke, my boy. It’s been a long time. The last time I’ve saw you your hair wasn’t grey!” She chuckled briefly and moved a chair for him. “I like your beard, it suits you” added, before laying her eyes on Ben. “Look who we have here: Ben! I only spent time with your father lately, but it’s impossible not to recognize you. How are you? I hope your mother is fine, too.”

“As usual.” Ben shook his shoulders, he didn’t want to talk much about his family, Rey could have guessed it by his body language. He sat next to his uncle, but first he moved another chair for Rey to sit down.

“And this beautiful girl?” Maz asked Luke. “Your apprentice?”

“Yeah, I’m his student, and I want to be a reporter one day, my name’s Rey” she replied, lowering her eyes, embarrassed. She didn’t know how to behave when someone paid her a compliment. Luke helped her. “She’s my best student… without her I’d remember only half of the things I have to do, plus she makes a wonderful tea. I took her with Ben to help her become a pro with our job.”

“It’s a good idea. Rey, right?” Maz looked intently at her from behind her glasses. “I like your name. It’s sounds regal, amazing.”

Once they all sat around the table, Maz called a waiter to bring them something for breakfast; she wanted to pay for her guests, even though Luke insisted on splitting the bill. A few minutes after, a man dressed in white brought them a tray full of brioches, biscuits, a teapot, and a coffee jug. There were also fruit jam and fried eggs with bacon. Rey hadn’t seen so much food for breakfast in ages, so she poured herself a big cup of coffee and milk and stood still for a moment, uncertain about choosing a brioche. Everything seemed absolutely delicious.

“I haven’t eaten sweets for breakfast in years,” said Ben, pouring himself a cup of coffee as well and choosing a custard brioche. “These are wonderful.” Rey nodded, taking a biscuit with jam from a plate.

“I’m glad you’re getting familiar with the place.” Maz smiled, a smile that touched her eyes. “You’ve arrived yesterday, Luke told me you planned to stay until the end of Carnival. Today’s Saturday, there’s still time to visit some museums and relax. From tomorrow to Tuesday, it’s going to be fun here.”

“It will be great!” Rey couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. She wiped her mouth of crumbs. “Visiting the city and seeing all the things, I mean. We’ve only crossed the Canal Grande with a ferry boat, and it was wonderful. How many museums are there?”

“Many more than you expect, my dear. I fear you wouldn’t succeed in visiting all of them in a few days, but I can give you a map to guide you. There are amazing places you totally have to visit, and others full of tourists only during summer, when important events take place there. For example Venezia’s Film Festival, I’m sure you’d like it.”

Film Festival. Rey’s thoughts went to her friend Paige, and her shining eyes when they discussed about cinema and films. She absolutely had to send her some pictures, she’d have been so happy, and Finn and Poe too.

“That would be fantastic, Maz. Do you have a particular place to recommend us?” Luke asked, drinking some coffee. He seemed to like it very much.

Maz waved a hand as if she wanted to shoo a fly. “Oh, Venezia is a heap of wonders, I might as well give you a map, I underlined the places I love more than others. If you like to see a beautiful palace and a great art collection, you have to choose Guggenheim Museum. I have some dear memories linked to that place and it’s not so far from your hotel. But while you’re here in _San Marco_ , you should visit _Palazzo Ducale_. It could help you to reach the spirit for Tuesday’s ball.”

“A ball?” Ben lifted his brows, a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

“Yes, a ball. A masked ball. There are many of them every Carnival, but it happens that I’m friends with one of the organizers and I told her about your job, so, you’re all invited. Oh, but you’re not forced to dance if you don’t want to,” she added, noticing both Ben and Luke’s glances. “You can simply watch, you only need a suitable outfit. I thought it’d be a full immersion with the Carnival’s atmosphere. Plus, there are many shops that rent costumes. I’m sure you will enjoy it.”

“Why not? If it’s all organized, I suppose we can take the leap.” Luke seemed more relaxed now that he knew he didn’t have to dance, thought Rey. Actually, her teacher didn’t seem like a party person. “If you guys like the idea, we can think about it. But first, let’s enjoy our museum tour.”

“And what about the clothes?” Rey dared to ask.

“You can rent them without problems, like I said before. During Carnival everyone’s just spoiled for choice. You can also buy one, if you want to…” Maz laughed, dunking a pastry in her teacup. “But I don’t think you could put it inside of your bag that easily. You can’t even imagine what sort of incredible costumes you might see around during these days!”

Maz was truly resourceful, Rey thought. Ben nodded, silent and lost in his thoughts as always, when they finished breakfast. It was difficult to imagine what was going on inside his mind, if the idea of attending the ball worried or made him curious.

 

*

 

 

_Palazzo Ducale_ left a sense of wonder in Rey.

They walked along frescoed rooms, guided only by a small audio guide, heads tilted up in order to admire every painting, every detail of the wonderful ceilings. Now the place was used as a museum, but the beauty of the furniture and marble floors was intact and spoke of a glorious era. Inside an enormous room, full of wooden seats lined against the wall, ancient governors made their decisions, and important ceremonies took place there. Banquets. It wasn’t hard to imagine them while closing your eyes. Ben seemed interested too, according to the sharp glances he threw around, listening to his audio guide. He wasn’t taking pictures; he was probably trying to remember everything, waiting for the right moment to sketch of all those details on his sketchbook.

Once they had admired the interiors, they took a ferry boat to the Peggy Guggenheim Museum. It was not far from their hotel and housed the most beautiful palace Rey had ever seen. Maz said she was fond of that place and Rey didn’t find it hard to understand why: the atmosphere of that garden was magical, relaxed and yet full of life, electrical, probably the same atmosphere breathed by the artists of the past.

They were looking at everything around them with the eyes of a child: even Luke seemed amazed by what they were looking at. At a certain point he left them to look at some sculptures, so Rey had found herself wandering alone, with some Magritte paintings as a company.

She ended her visit and sat on a stony bench underneath the gazebo. Other visitors were observing the sculptures, strolling around with hands behind their back. Rey stretched her legs and let the February sun warm them. The sunset was not close, but the light was already weak and cold and it began to attack her bones like an annoying animal that liked to bite. She had a fantasy about visiting that place in summer, with the sea breeze and the afternoon sun warming her skin, her head was starting to feel confused by too many different thoughts. She was so lost in thought she didn’t realize Ben was next to her.

“I haven’t visited a museum in a very long time. Since I lived in New York, at least… three years ago I moved to London.”

“Tell me about it,” sighed Rey, rubbing her hands together. She had left her gloves in her trolley bag, as always.“The last time I visited an exhibition was last year, I asked Rose and Paige so many times to come, I’ve lost the count, they were always busy. This collection is incredible.”

“Yeah. I’ve visited New York’s Guggenheim, I went there with my father, maybe that was the last time we took a trip together before he broke up with my mother. I liked it, but this one… it has its own atmosphere. I think it’s impossible to even try and replicate it elsewhere.”

Rey felt resignation in him, a bit of melancholic sadness in his voice, but not fear or resentment. Those feelings must have been gone, or maybe he was only used to conceal them. She tried with a question, hesitant.

“Ben…” He turned his head towards her, caught off guard by her using his name. “Are you still angry with your parents? I mean, for your past.”

He stood in silence for a moment, a second for Rey to ask herself if she hadn’t said something wrong. When he answered, he didn’t seem hostile or angry.

“No, not anymore.” He seemed sad. “I was angry during all my teenage years. I felt betrayed, I hated that they spent a big part of their life as a couple in happiness, until I was born. They always used to argue when I was a child, they argued when I told them about my school troubles, my father always disappeared because of his work, he spent more time outside than with us, he came back only when he felt enough guilt to put aside his desire for independence. After years and years of resentment and anger you just can’t let sorrow destroy you. So I tried to make them proud at all costs, to make my father understand he was wrong and he was missing all the best. It didn’t work. Why did I have to destroy myself, then? For what purpose?”

The Ben of the past was full of blind rage, forced by himself to walk down a path he didn’t feel his own, was next to her right in that moment. He had fought with that part of himself for years, the part who controlled him like a puppet tied to a string. It breathed with the boy full of doubts, stinging his heart when he took a break from his insecurities and tried to feel different, to change. Yet, something in him was so different from years before, she was sure of that.

“Maybe I can’t understand what you say, my family never really cared about me. But I know the feeling of letting your anger go.” Rey wrapped the jacket tighter around her body, then moving her hands on the stony surface of the bench. “There was a moment when I desperately fought to understand who I really was. And it took me months, years to work it out, until one day, when I simply understood I had grown up, and everything I’d faced before helped me become the person who was looking at herself in the mirror. She hated herself a little less every day, and that was good. I’m not complete, I’m so far from being ‘complete’ and I’m not totally satisfied with who I am, but I can work on it. I’m searching for my path, but for now I’ve walked enough. You’re here, thinking about your past self, that’s proof that you’ve changed.”

She let her fingers slip to meet Ben’s, and she felt his hand closing around hers, much to her surprise. He was warm, she remembered the last time they had touched each other in that way, when she’d help him packing away his photographs after the exhibition. He was calm, almost… shy? It was like he was calling for affection, a mute calling he probably wasn’t even aware of.

“It’s always here.” Bitterness, a hint of sadness tangled to every word. “Anger. When I lose control, I feel I’m not myself anymore and I’m afraid. I’d want to shake off this side me, but it’s still with me. I don’t want it. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want you to see what I was before. You don’t deserve it.”

Rey held his hand tight. She felt something, or someone, maybe a gentle voice she had forgotten, suggesting her the right words to comfort him.

“You won’t hurt me, you’re getting stronger, Ben.” She smiled, hoping to see one on his lips, too. “These are your first steps.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she stood still for a short moment to breathe without thinking, warmed by the lazy February sun that painted shadows on the sculptures, between the bushes and on the ivy running on the walls. After a while, Rey felt Ben relaxing.

 

*

 

They were coming back to the hotel: their day as tourists had ended with a visit to the Ca’Pesaro Contemporary Art Gallery, their exhaustion made Luke decide to stop and take a break until the day after. They took a ferry boat, and only when they reached their seats did they let themselves relax a bit, lulled by the gentle movement of the waves. Luke and Ben, in front of Rey, were talking about photographs and which of them would best suited an article about the Carnival.

Rey laid her head on the window, throwing a glance at the sea, now darker than before, like a piece of velvet ready to be colored by lamps and stars. She thought about their afternoon, the works she was lucky enough to admire, to Maz and her smile, a sparkle of youth in a body neither old, nor young. To the stories she held back in her mind, she hoped to let them fill the papers and notebooks in the best way possible. To Venezia, its beauty and the waves that sang under the boat, helping her falling asleep when it was bedtime. She was looking at the sea out of the window, when the mysterious girl appeared again behind her eyelids.

_This time she ran between the city streets, but she didn’t wear the dress made of fine lace that had covered her skin the last time: she was dressed in grey and beige, with boots on her feet and a wicker basket in her arms, full of unknown objects, probably food or things that she sold to live. Venezia was chaotic, noblemen in their colored and splendid cloths, some mendicants who tried not to get noticed: gondolas and boats were everywhere, the crowd was buzzing and the air trembled like something big was going to happen. The girl kept on running, apparently without a destination, light just as the wind was carrying her, happy. She crossed bridges, courtyards, until she reached San Marco Square._

_Not far from the sea, a big crowd was waiting for something, between people who pushed and others who stood on tiptoes to have a better view. Some boats were coming, and the one that guided the fleet was marvelously decorated with precious fabrics, with crests painted on both sides. A big gondola, probably owned by a rich person. Probably a prince._

_“The celebrations for Carnival have just begun!”_

_The girl turned her head: her eyes were brown and green, like woods on Northern mountains. She had never looked at any gondola of the nobility so closely. Ladies and lords got off and formed a parade of capes and stoles, feathered hats and pearl necklaces, to the centre of the square. From the first gondola two page boys had emerged as well, moving to the sides of the boat; one of them gave the arm to a lady with grey hair tied in a bun, not young but beautiful like a queen from a fairytale book. And behind her, a tall figure started to raise, much taller than the servant. A black haired boy, wavy and thick. The girl shivered. It was him…_

The ferry boat stopped, so the passengers could stand up and get off to reach their destination: Salute. They had arrived. Rey suddenly shook her head and that daydream disappeared like a bubble blown by a child. Only a strange sensation lingered on her, like she had lived someone else’s life through her eyes, a sort of melancholy she couldn’t explain.

 

*

 

After their dinner – merrier than other evenings, maybe because they had fish on the menu and happiness seemed to have infected everyone, even Ben – she reached her bedroom, too tired to do anything except read, or fill crossword puzzles. She climbed the stairs with Ben, and they chatted in the most relaxing of ways about food. They wished each other a good night and Rey kissed him on a cheek, next to his lips, so close she could smell his cologne. She almost regretted it, worried that she made him uncomfortable, but his smile showed many different emotions and annoyance was not one of them. They went to their respective rooms and Rey had the time to think about that moment, reliving it hundreds of times in her head.

She laid in her bed only after writing her experiences on a notebook, ready to make them into an article. Then she had tried to open a book to read almost a chapter, but after letting it fall on the floor she realized it was time to close it and turn off the light. She was too tired, but she liked reading so much, she wasn’t going to surrender so easily.

Sleep finally arrived before she could even notice.

_San Marco Square shone under the sun: the crowd had thinned out, but the parade of noblemen had just retired to the big white palace that overlooked the sea. Curious people’s life were returning to normal, assistants that had accompanied their masters while gondolas’ drivers set them in place, waiting for the next trip. The girl stood with the sea behind her and looked at Palazzo Ducale with a stare full of yearning, like one who desperately wanted to take a closer look._

_A voice calling for her made the girl turn her around and take a step back. In a heartbeat she reached a woman dressed like her, who was waiting in a shop full of machineries and dust, rags and piles of objects just repaired, waiting for their clients to take them back. She didn’t scold the girl: the woman smiled and pointed at the workbench. The girl sighed and came back to her work, rubbing a mechanism to clean it from grease. Stopping her dreams was nearly impossible._

_“You haven’t gotten that idea out of your mind yet?” the blonde woman, who seemed to be her superior, was sweeping the shop. The girl shook her head, moving a lock of hair exactly in front of her eye and shaking her head again to put it in its place._

_“How can I do that? My parents could be there, between those nobles, you know. I lived on the streets since I was a child and I don’t know anything about them or why they have abandoned me. What if they’re there? What if they’re waiting for me? I can’t be sure, Agnese. This is why I have to search for them everywhere, even at nobles’ parties. I have to aim high. The ball is open to common people, too. You only need a proper dress.”_

_“And we don’t own one. Unless you consider a ‘dress’ the one you use to go out on Sundays, but it’s covered in patches,” sighed the woman, collecting the dust and throwing it in a basket. The girl of Rey’s dream shook her head, disappointed, then started cleaning the machineries again. The shop was silent, the only sound was the one made by the rag rubbing the metal piece and the broom scratching the floor, until Agnese stopped working and styled her hair in a small bun. She left the broom to disappear inside of the shop, then came back with a bunch of fabric and put them on a clean corner of the work bench. The girl stretched her neck forth to see what was happening._

_“But…” Agnese had the tone of someone who knows how to solve a problem. “No one could stop you from borrowing one, especially if it really suits you. Some days ago I found this inside my mother’s drawer, and I immediately thought about you. It’s made of real Burano laces, it’s ancient. Try it!”_

_The girl couldn’t believe her eyes. She touched lightly the pile of rags, moving it to reveal an incredible dress, white with small flowers embroidered everywhere in lace and a very delicate belt made by red flowers. She lifted it carefully, trying not to get it dirty, and the dress followed her hand movement, while Agnese smiled in satisfaction._

_“Are you sure? It’s beautiful, I can’t accept it. I’ll ruin it, I can’t…”  
_

_"Oh, don’t be silly. I’m sure you look amazing in it, my mother was more or less of your size when she was young… and if it doesn’t fit you, I can adjust it. You do want to go to that ball, right?”_

_“Sure!” she answered in a hurry. “But I…”_

_"But you don’t have to worry. Just try it and tell me if you can wear it comfortably, you can give it back to me after the party.”_

_The girl didn’t answer. She turned that fabric between her fingers like she couldn’t just believe all that wonder, then she put the dress back in place covering it with the fabric. She threw a glance full of gratitude to her friend, she whispered a “thank you” and the second after she was running again in the streets, to vent out all her joy moving through the calli and small squares, unable to hold her enthusiasm back._

_Now she needed a mask to cover her face, but she had a dress. A real, elegant dress. A dress to cross the Palace threshold and dance, have fun and search for her family. And look closely at that young man they call the Prince, the boy with black hair and a melancholy stare who had gotten off his gondola that morning and she had seen strolling around the city many times, with a group of nobles and servants. She would have been like them for a night, and maybe she would have discovered something about herself._

_She climbed a small wall to look at the horizon, as far as possible. Boats were moving lazily on the lagoon, winter sun made water warm and brilliant, like it was home for the same, minuscule gems that made the ladies’ dresses marvelous. She closed her eyes and let the breeze caress her: a few days after, at that same hour she would have been greeted by Agnese just to run home soon after and dress up for the ball. She smiled again._

At the same moment, an English girl opened her eyes in a hotel room in Venezia, urged by a sound coming from her phone’s alarm clock.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Search for all the places I've described while reading, if you like to: I'm sure they'll capture your imagination. Venezia is so beautiful, I really hope you can feel just a part of her beauty!

_“A realist, in Venice, would become a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he saw before him.”_

**\- Arthur Symons**

 

 

 

“Have you charged your camera batteries, Ben?”

“Of course I have.” The young man snorted, still checking for his emergency battery nonetheless. He didn’t like to disappoint anyone, especially when it came time to prove his real value. “I always charge it before shooting. I don’t want to repeat my past experiences with dead batteries, thank you.”

“That’s good.” Luke lifted his head, as if he was searching for an undefined spot in the sky. “You didn’t sleep much, huh? You seem sleepy… uncomfortable bed, maybe?”

Ben kept rubbing his eyes. Maz suggested them to join her in _San Marco_ square before half past ten in the morning, so they could wait together for the beginning of the celebration without being pushed by the crowd; in a few minutes, the square was full of people in disguise, adults and children, tourists and locals. They were surrounded by hats, strange clothes and masks, and Rey stood on tiptoes to have a better view of the surroundings. Ben yawned.

“No, I like my bed. Some weird dreams kept waking me up all through the night, that’s it.”

Dreams. Rey thought about the girl from Venezia who wanted to find her family, about the dress made of lace that she would have worn for Carnival’s ball; it seemed so real, almost as if she could have touched it. She woke up with the same feeling of the previous afternoon, as if she had just left behind a memory of her past, not just a simple image made of nothing but fantasies. Had Ben lived something similar, that night?

She shook her thoughts off and turned towards Luke. It was almost noon. Maz pulled at Luke’s sleeve to get his attention and having him look at a parade of masked people, led by a girl dressed in blue, the _Aquila_ ready for her _Volo_ on the square. Maz had told them a metallic structure crossing the whole square was built every year, with many wires and supports to make the _Aquila_ , meaning eagle, fly over the square; the end of the _Volo_ consisted in the girl landing on a wooden platform in front of the _Basilica_. The ceremony took place on the Sunday of Carnival, every year. It was only the beginning of a long series of balls, parties and events until the night of Shrove Tuesday, the last day of celebrations before Ash Wednesday. Ben turned to where Maz’s finger was pointed, his camera ready to shoot, every trace of tiredness gone while he began adjusting the zoom of his lens and the light exposure to capture an image of the _Aquila_ , ready to make her appearance on the top of the bell tower.

“It’s a pity you have arrived only this Friday, last Sunday the _Flight of the Angel_ took place in the same spot, the real beginning of all Carnival’s celebrations. And it would have been interesting for you to see that too,” Maz said, lifting her head as much as she could to see the girl, fastened to some strong iron wires by a group of men.

Ben was taking some pictures of the square as well. He was relaxed, Rey could feel it: he was in his element, and his serenity helped her relax as well. His passion was true, he wanted to make people aware of his love for photography, but through his work he could also hold back the fury that was always on the verge of destabilizing him. She asked herself for a moment if that new quietness could have been born during their days in Venice, while breathing next to each other, while living the same experiences with brand new eyes.

“There she is!” Luke pointed a finger to the sky, where the Aquila was coming down, tied to her wire. Her dress was long, adorned with stripes of tulle lightly moving in the wind, like a plumage. Rey stared at the girl, fascinated; she came down slowly, moving her arms like a bird moves its wings, as if she could really fly all the way down to the square. It was incredible how tranquil she appeared, and Rey envied her lack of anxiety or fear. She seemed weightless, a strange creature from a fairytale, greeting the crowd with a big, warm smile. In the end, she completed her flight in a couple of minutes and landed on the stage not far from them, received by a thunderous applause and blue confetti thrown from every corner.

“Well, welcome to your week at the Carnival of Venezia!” uttered Maz, with a friendly pat on Luke’s back. They had already planned their day: first, they were going to visit the other islands in the afternoon, and then another museum, or maybe two. The crowd started moving, the _Volo_ and its magic had ended. Ben, next to her, went on shooting photographs of the magnificent blue sky. 

 

*

 

 

“Have you ever seen pink, blue, yellow houses very close to each other? I bet you haven’t. And I’m sure you’re really going to like these photos. Big hugs!”

She had just sent Poe a message and a photo: a small house painted in pink, white, shiny shutters, a vase hanging under the window with an evergreen small bush that spread its leaves to the afternoon sun. In Burano, every house was painted in bright colors, shining even during rainy or cloudy days. There were no cars in the streets and silent shaded alleys where only cats seemed to live, along with seagulls searching for food. The waves and their sound filled the atmosphere, making the island alive.

Poe would have loved everything about it.

Rey sat on a bench opposite to the sea and closed her eyes, caressed by a ray of sunshine seeping through the leaves of a tree. Maz didn’t openly say it, but the entire morning spent in _San Marco_ had worn her out; for that reason, she didn’t join them on the ferryboat to the islands ( _Murano_ , known for decorated glass and _Torcello_ , the smallest one). She was probably taking a nap, after giving them some advice about visiting every major island and the Natural History Museum. Once they were on solid ground again, Luke had started walking through the narrow streets alone, while Ben was searching some nice places to photograph. At lunchtime the sun was covered by some clouds bringing rain with them, but it didn’t last long. Soon thin, wispy white and beige strands filled the sky. They didn’t seem to promise more rain, and the sun was shining again, short after.

Ben walked slowly not far from her, hands in his pockets, his mind probably wandering through any sort of thoughts. A black and white cat appeared from an alley and started crossing the square with the feline typical rushed pace. Rey looked at Ben taking a knee and stretching his arm to call at the animal, who stopped and threw a suspicious glance to the young man, whiskers tight. He didn’t seem to entirely trust the human, but at last he made some steps towards him and sniffed Ben’s hand, letting him touch his back. After granting that incredible privilege to the human, he went back to his concerns. Ben lowered his head and smiled, the little incredulous smile of a child, happy about a new discovery.

Rey felt him approaching her, and after a moment he was sitting beside her, rays of sunshine shining on his hair, making it look warm and brilliant. He bent forward, arms on his legs. Rey thought that was the right time to speak.

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yes. I only needed to eat something and have a nice boat trip.” He moved a pebble, pressing it on the ground. “I don’t usually sleep well, mainly because I have nightmares. But this time… I don’t know, it was different.”

The sky was empty, except for a corner where a flock of white clouds made a small group. Birds sang again, the air smelled of rain and sea, and wet grass. Sometimes, thought Rey, the sky after cloudbursts was even more beautiful.

“Have you ever had a dream so real you can’t just stop thinking about it?” Ben broke the silence, and it was hard to say whether he was talking to himself or not. Rey listened to him, hanging to his words without saying anything. “One similar to your life, but also different, with other protagonists, other stories. You walk and you know it’s not your body, but the person you see has your face and you can do nothing but doubt. You wander in the city you visit when you’re awake, talk with people in a language different from your mother tongue, live another life… then you wake up, and reality seems strange, maybe it’s not even reality, after all. It’s confusing. I woke up and I didn’t know what was the truth… I couldn’t fall asleep again.”

_The girl in the lace dress pirouettes in front of a big, wooden-framed mirror, smiling. She ties her hair in a bun on top of her head. She owns a mask, beige with white twirls all over: now it lays on her bed and makes all the room bright. Venice celebrates! Carnival, everywhere! Maybe her parents will be in the crowd, too. Maybe Prince Solo will dance with her._

_Yes_ , Rey would want to answer. _I had this kind of dreams, it’s been two days since I’ve started seeing bizarre and marvelous things and they don’t leave my mind._ But how could she have put everything in a few words, made him understand that their dreams were so similar and it couldn’t be just a mere coincidence?

She had to. Talk to him, say something to make him understand.

“Yes… it happened several times since we’ve been here. And you’re right: I can’t separate reality from fantasy. Sometimes I think I’m living a part of my past, even if the girl in my dreams is not me… and this amazes and frightens me at the same time.”

They share a moment of peaceful silence, both enjoying the sound of it and of the waves. Rey couldn’t stop looking at the sun playing with Ben’s hair. Even in the silence, she felt like he was the one who could totally understand her. Those dreams were bringing them close, closer than whenever they talked about art or photography. He took her hand and slipped his fingers between hers, stroking them gently as if he needed some kind of reassurance. Light fingers, almost weightless.

“We share dreams… like in a novel. Sounds interesting.”

Her giggle made the air tremble. She was amused, and she didn’t know why.

 

*

 

The Natural History Museum was a huge, amazing scientific playground.

Rey hadn’t had so much fun in months, or maybe ages. They had strolled between the rooms dedicated to the Stone Age, touching all the fake fossils created for the guests, swapping them from one to another, eyes full of surprise. They had lost themselves reading lots of information about endangered plants and animals, admired the fountain where water-lilies floated peacefully. In the end, they had listened to whales’ songs, those giants of the sea offering their melodies just for them. Ben’s eyes blinked. Luke seemed so happy, so at ease she and Ben couldn’t just follow him.

They ended their visit with hot chocolate in a small bar next to the University. Their last stop was a museum dedicated to Venetian’s Eighteenth Century, hosted inside an ancient palace that surely came out from another century. Once crossed the threshold, Rey felt her dream were catching her again: that furniture held a glimpse of life inside, a life made of parties, elegance, but also work and a desire to explore everything that lied beyond the horizon, beyond the lagoon. Faraway lands with evocative names. They rambled around frescoed walls and sculpted frames, contemplating varnished objects and porcelains, and the girl with the long, white dress kept on dancing with herself in front of the mirror, thrilled for the upcoming ball. Maybe she was thinking about the young man she had already seen before. Rey looked away from an opulent, polished piece of furniture and peered at Ben, not far from her, who closed and opened his eyes after a long breath. Who knows if he was thinking about his dream, together with her. His revelation of hours before hadn’t surprised her as much as she would have thought: perhaps because she felt some sort of connection with him, and their journey had given her more reasons to believe it.

In her mind, women dressed in ball gowns danced, inhabited those rooms laughing and calling one another, looked out of the windows, sighing. Music didn’t cease to play, guided Rey’s steps and accompanied her outside in a delicate scent of cosmetics and delicate fabrics, while she tried some dance steps, absentmindedly. The ferryboat waited outside to take them to their dinner and Maz, right under _Santa Maria della Salute_ ’s cupola. Evening fell slowly, they still had to decide on places to visit the day after and where to rent costumes for Carnival’s ball. Luke didn’t seem convinced, Ben chewed the inside of his cheek, but in her heart – a part she hid well, the most secret and unknown, even to herself – Rey was pleased to join the celebration.

 

*

 

She went to bed serene, with the tranquility of someone who knows for sure that something good is going to happen soon. Turning the lights off, images of the afternoon spent at the museum filled her mind, coupled with Luke’s laughter and Ben’s glance at the sight of the black and white cat. She closed her eyes and a languid sleep took over her, carrying her like the ferryboat, a wave gently touching the same shore every day, but every time with brand new water.

_The girl, dressed in her white chrysalis made of laces, was a gracious queen without a crown. If some of her clients would have noticed a girl passing next to them, a mask on her face, they would have never recognized the helper who worked in that small, dusty shop, always busy with machineries, grease and wooden shavings._

_She skittered to the Palace: balustrades and windows shone thanks to the candles and lanterns, some gentlemen were looking down from the balconies, and more were coming from canals on their gondole, along with their ladies. Common folks joined the party too, they wore humbler clothes and plain masks, entirely white. She was lucky to own her mask, probably a keepsake left behind by her parents…_

_The girl moved forward to the entrance, where nobody tried to stop her, as expected. One of the guards responded to her bow and let her in: masked balls were the perfect occasion for the working-class folk to meet with the nobility, and no one ever had something to say if servants wanted to join the celebrations. The Palace’s main room echoed of rich laughter and music, but she couldn’t recognize anyone from that distance._

_Finally the music started to play again and voices rose in volume, making her feel small and insecure. She had to be brave, how she could find her parents otherwise? Perhaps they were hiding between all those ladies and noblemen, unaware of her presence. Maybe Prince Solo was close to them, always gentle, melancholic. She desperately wanted to look at him again, stay next to him silently and observing his long fingers playing with a strand of his black hair, moving it away from his eyes, she yearned to contemplate his full lips, half-closed. She had seen him only briefly, while he got off from his family’s gondola or during public celebrations… Carnival’s balls were the best occasions to participate in something totally different from her life. Just sharing some space with him would have made her feel satisfied._

_She moved some uncertain steps towards the room, fascinated by a table covered in food, when a hand lightly touched her shoulder, making her turn. A young man stared at her from behind a black, grey and red mask, with two small rubies set under his right eye: two scarlet tears._

_“Do you need help, miss?”_

_The girl almost jumped and recognized his eyes, brown and warm even with all the apprehension they usually conveyed. She immediately gave him a name, it was impossible to mistake the man for someone else._

_The Prince._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you like to, try to listen to "Lost in the Weekend", by Cesare Cremonini: it was one of the songs that guided me during my writing journey.   
> And, if you'd like a translation... feel free to drop a message or a comment! :3

_“Il mondo è un’alchimia di corpi e luci senza nome_

_e la paura poi diventa amore.”_

_(“The world is an alchemy of nameless bodies and lights_

_then, fear turns to love.”)_

\- Lost in the Weekend, **Cesare Cremonini**

 

 

 

_He wore a pair of black gloves, as dark as his outfit: soft, smooth leather wrapped around delicate skin, pale like pristine snow. His hair – she had admired it since the first time she had seen him – was wavy, exuberant black curls, surely as soft as his hands, a bit messy near his ears but styled with care, rebel curls of a child with adult eyes. He had bowed in front of her, treating the girl like a lady and not the common folk she was, a nervous girl not familiar with etiquette. Afterwards, he asked her if she was enjoying the ball, if she would have minded a dance and, even if she had never danced before, she had accepted in a heartbeat._

_“I’m sorry if I scared you a moment ago. You were there, alone, something was pushing me towards you. I feel dazed too, during this kind of events... even if I’m getting used to them. Your glance was identical to mine.”_

_“You didn’t scare me at all. I was just… confused. I don’t usually attend to celebrations,” she justified herself. The girl didn’t immediately trust people she didn’t know, but in her heart she felt that man meant no hurt to her. He was surrounded by a personal darkness, a quiescent midnight sky gently wrapping everything, yet leaving place for the stars._

_Following his steps was not difficult; the Prince danced graciously, his moves spoke of a person accustomed to it since a young age. Nobles and ladies around them twirled, a group of men dressed in robes similar to his checked him from a corner, never missing a move from the young man. They were six, with faces covered by black masks hiding their features._

_“My knights” explained the Prince, as an answer to her quizzical look. “They never lose sight of me… they probably think I may be in danger right now.” He let out a small laugh while keeping on guiding her, his hand on her hip. Her loose hair almost touched his fingers, but he didn’t seem bothered. His laugh didn’t reach his eyes, they remained serious like always._

_They danced twice, a time that seemed infinite to the girl; she couldn’t feel her legs, nor the Prince’s light touch on her body, his breath caressing her skin._

_Music stopped playing after a moment to let the dancers have some rest. The Prince bowed to her again, then he left for the terrace. He didn’t explicitly invite her, but he stood still for a moment to let her know he would have liked a bit of company. The girl joined him, her dress an ethereal bouquet of lace flowers._

 

*

 

Maz took them to a shop filled with dresses, garments, gowns, hats, jackets, corsets and masks in every corner, to help them choose some clothes for the ball. It was no easy task, but after half an hour or maybe two hours straight they came out from the shop with suitable costumes; they only had to return them on Wednesday, before leaving the city.

Rey had studied hers long before putting it back on the armchair, wrapped in a cellophane envelope. It seemed incredible that a girl like her could have the chance to wear such a marvelous dress. Pearl grey, with a long, puffy skirt, it had a corset embroidered in small pearls scattered on the neckline and the shoulders. The skirt was a combination of many veils and crinolines sewn together, and the sleeves, long too, were covered in lavish lace. The shop owner had also left her a tiara made of crystalline pearl strings to style her hair, and a white mask decorated by golden branches. All those pieces would have really suited her, or were they only going to make her look awkward? She didn’t know. Her desire to try, to feel different from her usual self who didn’t really care about being elegant and parties, was too strong.

She found herself sitting on the bed without even noticing it. Those days spent with Ben seemed perfect, more than she could have ever imagined. He smiled, took photographs, was relaxed, so relaxed he looked like a totally different person from the Ben she knew. Was it a sign? A favorable omen to pave the way to something new, a sign to make her let her guard down and open her heart because he had open his? Could she really believe it without fear of failure, without unbalancing herself? And if she had fallen, would the pain have been unbearable, so unbearable to make her give up?

She drummed her fingers on the bedcover, nervously. Rey let her body fall on the soft surface, her other thumb’s nail tracing small marks on the hipbone, absentmindedly. That gesture brought back Ben’s hands to her mind, his careful fingertips, the attention in his gestures when he touched her. Sometimes it seemed he feared to break her, as if she was a sculpture too precious to be handled without gloves. The way he had brushed his fingers against hers days before, at Guggenheim. His anguish when he remembered his past, held back by his lips and then let out without hesitation, maybe because he felt Rey was the only one who could have understood him. Didn’t she do the same thing, after all? Give him custody of some shards of her soul, sure he would have been the one to keep them safe?

There was a moment between them, a moment she almost feared to relive in her mind, an instant so out of time and frozen, it stayed in the strongbox of her most secret thoughts, a gem so radiant it was frightening. A day spent together, maybe a year, maybe two years before… it was spring? Yeah, maybe... They were in his room, not impersonal as a hotel room but white in the same way, black was only on some posters, on the armchair, on a frame hosting a group of photographs taken time before. Did they drink too much? She couldn’t remember, but Ben seemed so fragile and furious at the same time, like he was ready to let go of all the feelings he held from ages, from an entire existence. She couldn’t remember how or why, what gave a start to that moment, yet she remembered they got close enough for him to cup her face in his hands and kiss her.

At first he did it hastily, without dominating his movements, with the hunger, the rage, the desire of someone who could finally express what he felt unhindered. Much to his surprise, Rey had answered the kiss with the same haste, after a minute of shock and her initial awkwardness. Maybe she had always desired it, without feeling right to it. She felt the touch of his lips on hers, then a delightful bite on her lower lip, his tongue gently explored her mouth, Ben didn’t want to let her go and held her tight, so tight.

She barely noticed she had lightly touched her belly while recalling that memory. Their gestures were clumsy and full of a still immature, yet intense passion. Ben stood still while she ran her hands on his t-shirt, to explore it gently and then lift it, an invite to take it off. A sort of force guided her movements, asked her to do so. The same force that probably made him caress her back, open her blouse button after button only to meet a green bra and her tiny, soft breasts, free after the bra fell on the floor. They had looked at each other, both shirtless, without a single hint of embarrassment in their eyes. Rey helped him taking off his trousers, looked at them sliding on the floor and join the rest of his clothes, while she took off her jeans and glanced at him, slow and measured gestures, part of a rite they seemed to experiment for the first time. When only two pieces of cloth covered their bodies, Ben hugged her again.

Almost naked, they stood in the middle of a room still full of secrets for Rey, walls that had collected everything Ben Solo could give them. Submerged by silence, ears pounding with that sound, she felt herself prisoner of a new intimacy, so new it scared and still reassured her. Ben’s arms held her tight, her breasts pressed to his torso. She could feel him shudder, a small sigh of… relief? coming over him and making her shiver too. One of his hands had caressed between her legs with feather-like touch, moving gently to her already wet sex, making her delightfully shudder with desire. Because she desired him, now she noticed it, she would have devoured him and let him devour her at the same time, all that she wanted was him to keep on caressing her, pushing his fingers further in her core, touch and give her every part of him, and accept what she wanted to offer. A single night wouldn’t have been enough…

She had felt his erection pressed on her thigh, protected by his boxers, and she had held her breath. It was Rey who began a new kiss, sinking fingers in his hair and making him aware of her craving. Ben answered, let her guide him… but they didn’t go any further. They simply shared their nudity gently, in the warmth of an upcoming summer, warmed by sunlight seeping through an half-open roller shutter, while Ben touched her belly, a nipple, then the other, her hips, her lips with hesitating fingers. He’d stopped for a bit on every part of her face, he’d venerated her, memorized every detail with his fingertips. He’d sculpted her lips with a touch. The fear of ruining everything was too strong to really let themselves go.

“Rey,” he had murmured. Her name, a prayer escaped from his lips, had given her goosebumps.

Yet Ben had accepted her attentions, the small kiss she left on his cheek, close enough to his lips to sound like a promise. Was that meaningful? Or it was her who imagined everything without control?

Rey stood up, moved her hair from her eyes, crossed to the armchair and finally went down to the reception. Maz waited for them to spend the afternoon together. She wanted to take them to a bar on the _Canal Grande_ to drink something, and the simple thought of enjoying the sun and the sight of the sea made the girl feel a little better.

 

*

 

A seagull dived into the water, fast as a rocket, to come out after a while with a fish in its beak. After the snack, the animal floated on the water, wings folded on its sides. Rey stared at him from the balcony, silently blocking the flow of her thoughts. They never abandoned her, not even during their coffee break with Maz.

Ben remained inside to drink his macchiato with Luke. She had come out to breathe some fresh air; sometimes she simply couldn’t stay still in the same place for more than five minutes, especially when her mind didn’t want to calm down. Luckily it wasn’t a windy day, and except for some clouds high in the sky, rain didn’t seem to disturb their days.

She kept watching the sea and its ever changing color, from green to a dark blue full of shadows, then aquamarine under the sun. Who knew where the girl of her dreams lived, in which century had she lived. And her Prince, the boy she had finally reached? Venezia linked them all, small wefts in a bigger fabric. She squinted into the distance, so lost in thought that she didn’t notice Maz approaching.

“You’re just like someone who stays by themselves to face something worrying… or not?”

The woman beamed at her, wrapped in a thick, embroidered shawl. She didn’t invade her space, only staying next to her to make sure she was alright. Rey turned her head slowly to look at her and grinned.

“More or less, I have too many thoughts. It’s not the first time, but during this journey…”

She trailed off. Maz shook her head lightly to prove she had understood. “It brought you something you didn’t expect. New horizons, ideas… dreams, perhaps? Stranger than usual?”

Rey glanced at Maz, astonished. She already had the impression that the woman knew more than she put into words, and her relaxed voice, the serenity in her last sentence confirmed her suspects. Her smile was enigmatic, a big-eyed sphinx she could really trust. Maz’s scent was the one of ancient times, her wisdom was the same of some silent, antique places full of history, mysterious cathedrals that observed human beings, their secrets and desires.

“I had one of those dreams, these days. I keep dreaming from the first moment I arrived,” admitted Rey. “The first time was only a flash, I’ve seen a girl in white who looked at the sky… I thought that was a reverie, I got used to them.” She chuckled a bit. “But the night after they became dreams… I’ve seen the girl again, she joined a masked ball where she met a man, a melancholic young man she calls the Prince. It was like… I could feel her emotions, and I understood her even if she didn’t speak my language. How is it possible? Dreams are absurd, that’s true, but these ones are so real I don’t think they’re dreams anymore. Maybe they mean something, maybe they try to guide me? I don’t know. Every night I wait to live a new one.”

“I guessed so. Venezia has this kind of power, after all… you’re not the first and you won’t surely be the last to experience it. Sensitive people are more easily influenced than others” Maz cleaned her lenses and put them back on her nose. “I noticed it, you know. You have a light inside, something revealed every time you speak, or make a simple move. You’re kind, and you’re not ashamed. You’re curious, a child with an adult’s wisdom, the wisdom of someone who had lived through bad times and yet had learnt something from everything, from everyone. I don’t know you well, child. Unfortunately, I met you only a few days ago, but it was enough to understand why Ben is so attracted to you.”

Rey felt her mouth hang ope;: the last sentence blew her mind. She fought to find a good answer, while her thoughts and memories danced wildly inside her head.

_Ben told her no, she had to give up. She would have suffered like his parents, he didn’t deserve her, a young man too busy chasing his demons to really take care of someone._

_Ben had kissed her, had caressed her nipple as it was a flower’s corolla. Everytime she tried to make him laugh he pursed his lips and closed his eyes, he seemed happy but something still tormented him. He carried a heavy burden: to make his family proud, demonstrate his greatness, because he was worthy too like his grandfather before him and he would have made their eyes shine in admiration, the entire world tremble… but, at the end of the day, he became aware he was only a boy. His frustration burned._

_Ben was still a sad child, waiting for his dad to come home and pick him up to listen to his stories, and he couldn’t simply leave the child behind. She would have hugged him, but how could she do that if he hadn’t let her? During their last fight he told her to go away, it was almost a prayer, and when she came out of the room, defeated, he had punched the wall with rage. A moment after, she had heard him cry._

_Ben, who held her fingers tight some days before, at the Guggenheim…_

“Ben? A-attracted to me?” Saying it again louder made the statement real, in some ways.

“Of course. You didn’t notice?” Maz smiled again, leaning on the iron balustrade separating the bar’s outside from the sea. “It’s clear he’s looking for you. He waits for a sign. He’s not aware of it, but I know that boy well, in the same way I can read inside his parents’ hearts. His eyes sparkle when he’s with you, I understand how much he likes your company. Maybe your past relationship has never been easy, but you’re here… and those dreams are reaching you, that means something. They can guide you. Help you.”

_“Have you ever had a dream so real you can’t just stop thinking about it?”_ Ben had asked her the day before. If nothing happened by chance, then his words were more than a simple confidence. What if their dreams were connected? She tried to explain her theory to Maz, and the woman nodded.

“Your minds are connected on a deeper level, far from your understanding. When you’re awake you try to get close to one another, step by step, when you are asleep you can’t control your mind and something encompasses both of you, make your souls touch. Many people attempted to name this phenomenon during the years, some of them believe in it while others think it’s only a fantasy. I think a force bigger than us put our lives together and offer to some individuals a relationship beyond space and time, beyond what we consider possible. The girl and the Prince perhaps are only two ghosts brought by Venezia’s hidden magic… but what if they’re something more? What if your lives had really been connected in the past, in a place and a time far away from your present?”

How could she had not thought about it before? She didn’t recognize herself in the girl who ran across Venezia – at least not for a physical resemblance – but the Prince’s sadness, his shady eyes, were so familiar…

“In another life…” murmured Rey, slowly as she doubted of her words.

“ _In un’altra vita_ , yes. Furthermore, one of my favorite piano plays,” Maz translated rapidly to Italian. “Everything is possible, my child… dreams stay dreams until you wake up and make them real, someone, I don’t remember who, once said that. Now it’s your turn to decide whether to listen to them or ignore their voice. Sometimes, after hundreds of failures you finally get something precious, don’t you believe it?”

She gently held her hand and threw her another wise and affectionate glance, leaving Rey alone with her thoughts, in front of the sea and its calm waves.

 

*

 

Ben needed her. He called for her, held back his feelings, afraid of their power: they could have affected his entire life. _Weaknesses_. His principles demanded all his efforts and, while it gratified him, on the other hand it took Ben away from his family. Luke wasn’t happy, but he concealed that feeling well enough; a recent achievement, they had argued in the past. Rey remembered her mentor’s absent gaze and his rushed gestures when he dismissed her after only an hour of work. But Ben went on stubbornly on his path, not listening to anyone: he wanted to become great, Snoke promised him and he clung to his promises, his entire life depended on them. Every day he seemed more exhausted and farther from his goal, yet he didn’t seem to care.

Since when did he begin to leave his empty chrysalis behind? Snoke probably didn’t control him anymore, but their parting must have deeply affected his soul. Ben was a fragile child again, the child she hadn’t met. Little Ben Solo, with a family who loved him too much to really understand him. He was changing. They were changing, they grew up.

 

*

 

_Venezia shone under candles’ light: lanterns were everywhere. Big ones, small ones, made of painted wax, scented wax, big glass chandeliers, a myriad of small, warm flames. Outside, the streets were shining, as was the inside of the Palace. The Prince was tired of them, he wanted to retreat in the languid darkness of the upcoming night, and the balcony was the only place suitable to receive him without asking questions._

_He leaned on the stony balustrade, kissed by the moon. The girl joined him, admiring how the diaphanous light reflected on the sea, making it sparkle, igniting every water drop. She used to wander around the city by night, but she had never see Venezia so bright, so marvelous._

_“Do you know what they say about Venezia?” He talked to her, perhaps also to himself. In the dim light, the rubies on his mask were two crystallized blood drops. “It’s a kaleidoscope: it’s hard to take your eyes off all the things you see and come back to your life, once you’re wandering its streets. I’ve lived here since I was a child, yet I never feel free unless I’m alone, under the moonlight.”_

_She turned towards him and touched his face with hesitant fingers. She didn’t want him to go away, to pull back from her touch, but at the same time she couldn’t resist. He didn’t make a move, seemed almost quivering in rapture, as if he hadn’t received some kind of affection for a very long time. Intertwined by something, they stood still, two souls attracting each other with an ineffable force. She looked at his firm lips, the hint of a smile illuminated his opalescent, tired skin, a face fatigued by something she didn’t understand._

_Who knows if his loneliness brought on him the name of “Principe Solo”, the lonely Prince. Maybe it was only a nickname he had chosen for himself. He took her hand and gently brought it to his lips, caressing her knuckles like he was afraid of breaking them with his breath only. He touched them lightly, as if he was studying them, held back his breath and a soft, misty cloud of vapor tickled her skin, warmed it. Inside the room, the orchestra kept playing, the ball started again._

_“You are like me,” murmured the Prince, in a low voice. “And I’m like you. We belong together without being aware of it.” He didn’t add anything else. He simply stood, her hand in his, silently. She didn’t answer, he needed no answers; her mind played with a series of ephemeral images. She saw the young man’s story, something inside of her invited him to let him narrate, without interruptions._

_Their souls were speaking._

Rey woke up with her heart in precarious balance between joy and confusion, as she had to do something important as soon as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Buonasera, signora maschera" ("good evening, lady mask") is a traditional greeting used during Carnival of Venezia: sometimes people really didn't know who was hiding behind a mask, if a nobleman/woman or a commoner. You can also look for the costumes I took inspiration from to describe Rey, Kylo and Luke's ones, they're really similar to the traditional ones!

_“Now that you've seen what I'm really like,_

_can you still bear to look at me?”_

\- 1984, **George Orwell**

 

 

 

Shrove Tuesday.

Venice woke up once a year overwhelmed by confetti: on sunny or rainy days, no one would have refused to parade around with a costume on. From children to their parents to the elderly, everyone seemed to have fun. Extraordinary disguises filled the streets, exuberant pieces of art, moon and sun shaped masks, smiling animals, blue, green, white, pink visages, sculpted gondole. An assortment of centuries, ladies in nineteenth-century gowns arm in arm with noblemen came out from more ancient ages, followed by children wearing modern costumes, probably bought at the nearest mall. For an entire day all of the city became something totally different, a world made of precious fabrics and bright colors, porcelain and mysterious glances.

It was mesmerizing.

Rey woke up with two memories stuck in her mind, the girl and the Prince’s ones: their hands touching lightly, the attraction deeply connecting them, so deeply it reminded her of the bond shared with Ben. In un’altra vita, said Maz. Their souls had already met in the past, Venezia just cherished them to give them back after centuries and help to retie the connection they considered lost. Now the time had come, the moment that seemed to link four lives, theirs and the young ones: Carnival’s ball. The fabric started to show a clear pattern, traced by their choices.

She looked at her dress before going downstairs to have breakfast: it was waiting for her, wonderful and dreadful at the same time. She couldn’t dance, but it didn’t bother her. The thought that something was going to happen was worrying. And she’d have followed her feelings and the invisible strings in order to connect them, so tight she could do anything but surrender.

 

*

 

 

The ball was taking place in an historical palace not far from San Marco square, a splendid, ancient place used as an hotel, but during Carnival reverted back to Eighteenth Century and hosted themed parties and other celebrations. Maz had passed them some cards with the official invitations written in a flawless calligraphy: the ball started at eight o’clock, followed by a buffet after the opening dance. In spite of his initial skepticism, Luke now seemed more curious and well-disposed.

They spent the rest of the day in peace, surrounded by a feeling of anticipation, electric and serene at the same time: lunch, a visit to Biennale’s Gardens to enjoy the breathtaking view, until they returned to the hotel to dress up for the evening. She sat again on plastic seats, but this time Ben was next to her, hands on his knees, lithe fingers too big for his skinny knees, almost out of proportion. Winter sun peeked in from the windows, caressed her hair to take care of her and Rey felt Ben breathe, live. He was succeeding, he was winning the battle against himself. He was brave, so brave. His principal couldn’t say a thing, Snoke didn’t have power on the fragile young man who entrusted everyone who promised him attention, care. Rey shyly shook his hand, and after a few seconds she felt Ben return that contact, like he’d done before during their journey, he brought dark brown eyes to hers, full of unexpressed emotions, fears that lulled him to sleep. He smiled at her, and didn’t let her hand go until the ferryboat reached _Salute_ ’s dock.

She wore her costume as a challenge, lacing it carefully not to ruin it, let her hair loose from her usual messy three-bun hairstyle and tied them under the pearl tiara, a perfect match for them. Then put her shoes on. Rey looked at herself in the mirror and the girl she saw gave her a hesitant smile back: a new girl, almost a stranger to her. As soon as she put the mask on her face, that sensation of surprise and unfamiliarity intensified, but it didn’t make her uncomfortable. Instead it fascinated her, like the beginning of a new adventure. She came down to look for Ben and Luke and found them exactly where they had told her: in the hall, nearby the armchairs, both dressed in their costumes.

Luke wore an outfit similar to hers in colors, a sober mixture of beige and cream with a beautiful embroidered jacket and knee-long breeches. He had already put a black hat on his head and a cap, black too, that covered all of him. Ben stood next to his uncle, shoulders against the wall as if he didn’t want people to notice him. Rey could finally see his costume only when she got close to greet them.

Black really suited him: it could seem a melancholic choice at first, but black wore by him became almost sweet, the mystery of the darkest yet more peaceful hours, and perhaps he knew it well, knew how much it made his curly hair stand out, along with his delicate lips, the constellation of moles covering his cheeks. He wore a long, simple jacket, decorated only by silver embroideries on both shoulders, but his well-styled shirt and the soft fold of his velvet breeches made the entire costume precious. It was the first time she saw him wear breeches with paired white stockings and that outfit suited him well. He had combed his hair, and Rey noticed his almost timid grip on the plain white mask he had borrowed. _Larva_ , the shop owner called it that way, before adding it was one of the most used during ancient Carnivals. The mask must be worn with the hat and the black cap Luke had borrowed too, but Ben refused to put the hat on: mask and cap would have been enough, he said. His voice made him look like he was joking, only Rey had managed to find his usual habit to hide between the crowd in it, to hide his face and head not to show who he really was. A self-defence mechanism.

Luke moved ahead to greet her with a smile and his hat down. _“Buonasera, signora maschera!”_ he exclaimed merrily in a pretty good Italian; he asked Maz to teach him that greeting and he looked forward to using it. “That means ‘good evening, lady mask,’ if you didn’t know,” he added. “So, are you ready to enjoy our evening of celebrations? Come on, they’re waiting for us at _San Marco_ \--let’s try to be only fashionably late.”

Rey couldn’t help but giggle. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ben doing the same.

 

 

*

 

 

They arrived and a sapphire dressed Maz received them on the threshold, happy to see them all. Ben and Luke both kissed her on the hand, Rey bowed down and they crossed the door to the main room.

Once there, the sensation of being part of another century had amplified: the room hosted a multitude of guests wearing costumes. A small orchestra was playing below the big windows, and a rich buffet waited for the busy dancers. Some couples had already stopped, some other guests chatted on the balcony or sat on the sofas placed in the entrance hall, far from the ballroom. Maz, who had already understood Luke’s feelings about dancing, introduced him to the organizer. Rey and Ben stood there alone to observe the party, a bit awkward in front of the boisterous crowd. Before Rey could make a move, Ben bowed slightly and offered her his arm.

“Would you dance with me, _signora maschera_?”

A moment after, the orchestra played a waltz and Rey tried to pull up the hem of her dress in order to avoid stepping on it. Ben put the mask on his face but she could still see his eyes. They were warm, familiar. He took her hand in his gloved one and posed the other one on her hip to guide her.

“Can you dance?” Rey whispered. She didn’t know how to move; she’d never danced in her entire life, but something in his gestures calmed her. Maybe she only had to calm down and follow her instinct, instead of her anxious mind. She surrendered to his touch, looking at their feet only once to memorize some steps. It wasn’t easy, but she liked it. Turn after turn, she got used to dancing.

“Where did you learn?” she asked, curious. Ben’s hand embracing her hip sent shivers down her spine. She liked the intimacy between them. It was different and similar to the one they’d experimented in his room; now they were dressed up and surrounded by a crowd, but she could feel the same quiver, a deep delight she couldn’t just explain to herself.

She liked being hugged by Ben, who held her up as if he feared she would disappear. She loved having him so close to her, and knowing he was talking to her, dancing with her, showing a new side of him for her to discover. It was a sort of privilege; for a moment she felt the urge of saying it out loud, expressing her joy for being successful in making Ben feel at ease… but nobody was probably going to understand that, she thought. Ben answered after a moment.

“From my mother. When I was a child, she liked to teach me, along with my grandmother. They never passed up the opportunity.” He offered her a tiny smile with his eyes, maybe he thought about both women. “So I’ve learned from them, even if I had no occasions to practice. I doubt anyone will notice.”

“You’re pretty good. Better than me, for sure!” she giggled, encouraging him. “This suit is perfect on you.”

“It suits you too,” he murmured. The orchestra had finished and started with a new piece. Dancers greeted each other with a bow, some of them changed their partner, Rey and Ben didn’t even notice it; they stayed close to each other to catch a breath before starting again. This time the pace was slower. Rey leaned her head against Ben’s chest, and felt him holding her again, this time around the waist, with the same care. He smelled good. His heart beat fast; she could hear it echoing through his ribcage, a rhythmical, comforting sound.

_The dance started; the orchestra was playing again. The Prince came back to the ballroom, she had followed him, they were dancing together. The nobles around them stepped aside, leaving space for Prince Solo and the beautiful girl dressed in white, until they reached the middle of the room. She was incredibly relaxed even though she had never danced before. He guided her steps perfectly and made her feel as light as someone who could really fly. A twirl, two steps, he pulled her and her gown fluttered, a happy bird spreading its wings. Then he lifted her up and the crowd murmured in surprise. Someone clapped their hands. The woman dressed in purple who had accompanied the Prince days before during their trip in gondola, looked at them with misty eyes._

_The girl looked at his eyes behind the mask; for the first time, she could see a different sparkle. He seemed amused, someone who finally had left behind what scared him, at least for a moment. The corners of his lips lifted up._

Rey raised her stare and found the young man’s gaze in Ben. _It was him._

All of a sudden, she wanted to tell him everything, every detail of the dreams she had without a single pause, not even to catch her breath again. She craved to fill that silence to the brim, cancel the days spent waiting for a message from him without writing first, out of spite, because if he had really needed her he would have called, looked for her. Come back and wait outside of his door for him to vent and then go in again and give him a hug to make him understand he was not alone, instead of running away, angrily chasing away her tears. She had suffered, they both had suffered, but their distance had only made her want to understand him, to rewrite their relationship from the beginning, even if she had always denied it. She only had to leave him alone when he needed to, as she’d done in the past. But what if Ben didn’t want to get closer to her anymore?

“Thank you,” she murmured, absentmindedly. He caught her whisper.

“For what?”

“For being here. With me.” The confession burned her lips. It was the right time to let it slip out, or she would have kept it inside forever. Ben didn’t say anything. He held on her waist tighter.

The orchestra kept on playing, his heartbeat under her ear, a lullaby for Rey. She didn’t count the steps, the dance carried her and nullified every thought, until the lights, every golden frame in the room began to melt inside each other. She’d became the girl of her dreams, and the crowd around her clapped their hands for the Prince and his embarrassed lady, who didn’t know what to do. They were both encompassed by a masked audience, they both had just finished to dance with a young man dressed in black, whose demons were too big to defeat alone.

The music ended. Ben released his grip on her waist, bowed like a gentleman, and took her hand. Rey bowed too, and from his glance she understood he wanted to take a look at Venezia by the balcony.

 

 

*

 

 

The balcony showed the Canal Grande in all its magnificence, dominating it from above. A spectator could see far away calli, boats cutting through the water and gondole enjoying a night trip, looking like small toys in the water. Houses were brightened by lights, bars and restaurants, too. San Marco square must have been wonderful, full of lights and songs. An halcyon atmosphere she was going to keep forever in her heart.

Ben leaned on the stony baluster and took off his white mask: now they were alone, he didn’t need to hide his face. When he put it down next to him, Rey found again the man who had accompanied her on their journey, silent and tranquil, always ready to transform his dreams and ideas into photographs. Prince Solo had just changed his clothes, the burden he carried less heavy, time after time.

Rey took her mask off as well. She needed to be herself to face the moment: the girl had helped her, but now it was Rey’s turn. Ben was next to her, real, fragile. He seemed so strong, so adult, but it was only the last of an enormous number of masks he wore to avoid any pain, to keep little Ben safe. Because people around him must know that Kylo Ren – the nickname he chose, his sign on many works – had to be respected, feared. Rey was one of the few people able to reach his weaknesses.

She couldn’t speak; she’d wanted to explain how these past days had been special to her, but she felt every word tangling up inside her mouth. She grabbed his hand and once again her slim fingers amazed her, how small and inert they were between his, so thin yet strong. She could break him, hit just inside his most vulnerable part; just one word could have destroyed an ephemeral equilibrium, their connection just restored. Luke and Maz had stated it, too: _You’re stronger than Ben. Maybe you’ve always known that. Now I understand why Ben is so attracted to you. It’s clear he’s looking for you. He waits for a sign._ But she didn’t want to do it. Her only desire was to hold him tight, let him know they could have argued in the past and lost every will of being together again… it was their past. Being so close was like apologizing without saying a word. She didn’t need to be saved; she’d saved herself during all the years spent alone… but she could have helped him. Saved him. Both a princess and a prince charming, when needed.

Ben hugged her a moment. Rey could not help but hug him back, inhale his familiar cologne, the scent of lavender and clean clothes mingled with a stranger one, the smell of his borrowed jacket. She felt him leaning his head in the cavity of her neck and relax, another burden went away with a sigh. She felt relaxed, too. Who could bother them, out here?

Venezia wrapped them in silence. Music came outside softened--a faraway, evanescent dream.

Ben talked first and his voice was merely a whisper.

“Will they meet again? Prince Solo and the girl?”

The dream embraced them both, a cloud-like cover around their souls. If she’d ever needed a proof about those images shared by their minds, night after night, now she had it. Rey beamed and lifted her head to look him in his eyes, and the wise tone she had was new to her.

“I think so. I think they’ll have much to say, many moments to live. He needs her, he wanted to kiss her during the ball but at the same time he understood it wasn’t the right moment. they’re so similar, they just don’t know it.” She smelled his scent, let it intoxicate her. “And she wants to know more about him, discover his mystery. I think they met again, they danced together many other times.”

“Maybe,” Ben smiled. He leaned his chin on the top of her head and stood still, gently holding her between his arms. After a couple of minutes he tried with another question, a curious child who really wanted to know the end of a beloved story. “Will she find her parents, one day?”

“No, but she won’t give up anyway.” She didn’t know well who gave her that assurance, but inside her she felt the answer was right. “She has to prove her worth to the world, and who she really is. That path is still long.” Rey deepened the hug and after a while she didn’t know if she was talking about herself, or the girl of her dreams. Ben’s expression was happy. The moment after, she listened only to her heart and nothing else, a pressing request to do the right thing. She gently separated from him and looked into his eyes, again. And just when she didn’t expect it, while they were waiting for any move, she pressed her lips against his quickly, with a new urgency. Their first kiss after that summer afternoon.

After another perfectly still moment, Ben wrapped her face with both his hands and answered her kiss.

Time froze around them as it always did when they were together, when a second lasted an hour and vice versa, and everything around them became part of the background, melted with the rest. Ben was there with her, caressing her face, leaving a bite on her lower lip and exploring her mouth with his tongue. He moved his hands from her cheeks to better hug her back and shoulders, caress her body as he wanted to know it from the start, afraid of seeing her disappear in a heartbeat like the Venetian girl, like the boy whose body he borrowed every night. Rey responded to that kiss with all urgency, because she desperately wanted to show him something, to speak without words. Their parts had changed: she devoured him bit after bit, Ben nipped at her lips playfully, with the calm he could draw from her proximity. When she shuddered, he was calm. When he trembled in anger, full of an energy that made him shake and burn with fire and flames, she took his hand to reassure him. _Balance._

Rey’s hands indulged at his jacket, gripped the fabric and almost tore it. If only they were alone, in their room or inside the hotel… Ben hugged her tightly as he’d listened to her thoughts, lowered his head to kiss her chin, then the corner of her lips, her cheeks, every inch of her face he could reach. She felt she couldn’t control herself, neither could Ben; too many things left unsaid lingered between them, too many feelings bottled inside their hearts now could finally escape. Sentences never completed became kisses, whispers, words transformed into something else, something incredible. Ben moaned softly and Rey thought his voice was never so tender, abandoned. She was so close to surrender, so close that…

A resonant sound filled the air, so loud it shocked both of them. A golden flower sprouted in the sky and dived in the sea underneath them, followed by another flower, red this time. Then a third one, green. A burst and a bloom, an early spring of the sky.

Fireworks.

Rey looked Ben in the eyes, he looked at her. They started laughing. Too many words were useless; their gestures spoke.

Fireworks kept on lighting up the sky, marvelous and radiant. They exploded, making it glint like a waterfall made of glitter thrown by a giant, until they faded away, one after the other, crazily running to show their colors to a festive crowd. Shining shooting stars. Who knew if she could make a wish looking at them, Rey thought… she closed her eyes and wished for Ben to achieve his happiness, and finally find himself like she had done before.

When she looked at him again, the last fireworks came ahead to be admired. One of those golden stars filled his eyes with the brightest of lights. Between explosions and shouts, Ben captured her lips again for another kiss. Calmly this time, like they had an eternity in front of them, while the lagoon became a golden stream and the Carnival said goodbye to its city another time, during a winter evening wrapped in the promise of an upcoming spring.


	6. Chapter 6

_“Venice is eternity itself.”_

**\- Joseph Brodsky**

 

 

 

On Ash Wednesday’s morning, Venezia looked like a totally different city.

In the middle of the ferryboat deck, covered by scarves and hats, tourists observed the city letting go its colorful livery to return to its usual dress, less extravagant but beautiful nonetheless. Ben, Rey and Luke were between them.

Rey studied the buildings in front of the boat, almost smiling under the cloudy sky. Venezia seemed less crowded than the day before, like its subtle magic had gone away along with Carnival’s end; masks returned inside their shops to sleep, the shop owner had greeted them, hoping they might come back the next year. The small shop where the girl of her dreams had worked must have changed during centuries, but her spirit still inhabited it, and came back every Carnival to fill the _calli_ with joyful steps, her desire to explore every corner of the world, known and unknown. Maybe somewhere the girl and Prince Solo were portrayed together, close and dressed for a ceremony, a stern look on their faces, typical of portraits.

Ben came closer. His uncle was talking to the phone with Maz, who had said them goodbye before they reached the station, submerged by packets and suitcases. She hugged them for a long time (Ben too), sad for their leaving, and accepted with a mysterious smile Luke’s invitation to “take a trip to London, maybe in summer.” When Rey came forward to hug her, Maz took her hand and looked into her eyes; Rey felt her stare touch the very depths of her soul. “Good luck, my child. You’ve come so far… it was worth it. I can see it in your eyes.” She leant down to hug her and the petite woman whispered her greeting to her ear, before looking at them and waving her hand while they reached the ferryboat stop. Those days had been so extraordinarily odd and magnificent Rey already started to miss them, just like she missed their escort’s voice. Who knew if she was leaving the city to get back home in the USA, or if she was going to spend some more time in Venezia…

“Five days have passed since we got here, it’s incredible, don’t you think? I started to get used to Venetian lifestyle…”

Rey turned to accept him in her view, making him some space to observe the city together. The night had passed, but what was born between them remained the same: they shared a smile without embarrassment, and every look talked about something different, new. Ben must have had many burdens on his shoulders, but some of them were lifted during their journey. Only time could erase the ones still lingering in his heart.

“Yeah, I’ll miss Venezia. I wanted to see all the museums…” “We can always come back, if you want to see them with me, and bear with all my photographs.” He smiled and tilted his head a bit, he always did that when trying to cover his words with irony. Rey leaned her head on his chest as an answer.

“Thank you for everything, Rey. Not everyone would have done it, it wasn’t your duty or anything.” Some minutes had passed and Ben stayed next to her, looking for her body to reassure himself she was really there. He began to caress her skin with an hesitant finger.

“Why would you thank me? I did nothing special.”

“Anyone would have left, would have avoided me… for good reason. Never giving up.” He talked rapidly, as he couldn’t match words and thoughts. “It’s much more than everyone had ever done for me. It’s more than I deserve.”

“You deserve this and more, Ben Solo.” Rey turned her back to the sea, so she could look in his eyes and put her hands on his forearms. “You’ve fought, you’ve lost, but now you’re winning. You don’t have to count only on yourself; you have done that since you were a child. Let us take care of you, me, your mother, your uncle. Maybe also your father. He still loves you; he’s not very good at sharing his feelings but I believe he really loves you. Maybe you’re too similar and different at the same time. Don’t hate yourself, don’t be too harsh.”

He shook his head, not denying what she was saying, but to detach his eyes from hers, too pure, too gentle and naïve. Her naïveté was rather the kindness of someone who knows the pain suffered by a gentle heart, but chooses to keep it anyway. He waited for her to take her place next to him, then took a breath and started to recount, as if he strongly desired to let those words go. How strange of Ben, who didn’t like to talk about himself.

“I waited for anger like people wait for the rain when it’s too hot. It was me, years ago… fists clenched, I grounded my teeth while my body trembled and rage started to reach to me. When it exploded, I let it destroy everything through me. A fire nurtured by the gasoline of my classmates’ laughs, their stares full of irony and viciousness, to my face or my life, or both of them. When I was a child they mocked my face and ears, but as a teenager they started to scoff at my family. A couple of bully harassed me when I was thirteen: they spent days throwing sharp words at me, calling my dad a thief, saying my parents were separated and only my mum attended to my school recitals… sometimes, neither of them.”

Rey listened to him.

“I let them insult me, I kept control clenching my fists again and again, so hard I hurt my palms… but I know it couldn’t last, sooner or later my feelings would have had the upper hand.” He continued, almost not catching his breath between the sentences. “Until the day arrived, the day when my rage devoured me and all my body was fire and lava, hate and frustration. _Destruction. Fury._ There came the storm, I’d heard the thunder, I greeted it shouting, I prayed it could help me to destroy, destroy everything. I punched their leader in the face, then in the stomach. I knocked him down. I punched him, hit him with my head to make him stop, I wanted him to stop insulting me, my mum, my dad. I kept on punching him and I was wrong, so wrong, until I collapsed. They suspended me. They suspended both of us, but something in me was broken. Too much rage stays on the inside and it leaves steaming ash in your heart, never really cooling. Only years ago I understood they had provoked me, but I could have done a million other things instead of beating that kid… but it was me who called for that rage, I had to pay the price. I never got close to anyone, to anything again. _Total indifference._ I couldn’t feel pain, I could ignore that dark, mellifluous calling caressing my face. I couldn’t stand the idea of hurting anyone I loved just because I couldn’t leave behind the angry boy I was. Until I met you, Rey.”

He finished, catching his breath. The station was near, the train ready to take them back to their everyday life, but something had changed. For the better.

“They provoked you,” whispered Rey. She grabbed his hand. “You said it. It’s not easy to be calm when people corner you with your back against the wall. I’d have done the same. You understand that wasn’t fair, you’re not the boy you were back then. The adolescent full of rage can do nothing now. Let him go.”

“I can try,” murmured Ben, then smiled. A little, almost shy smile. He kissed her knuckles, touching them lightly with trembling lips.

They stood still, together, two plants with intertwined branches, logs supporting each other. They stood with eyes focused on the sea and the buildings around them, until the ferryboat stopped in front of _Santa Lucia_ station, and Luke took off with his luggage.

Rey closed her eyes, then opened them again and let the golden, fine dust of the sunshine caress her face. Then she followed Ben and Luke to the station, her green trolley bag following her steps.

_The girl observed the deck under her feet, so surprised she couldn’t believe her eyes: she was leaving for a voyage. And not a voyage like any other, but a real crossing to faraway lands! America, The Silk Route, mysterious oriental cities, also European ones – closer and fascinating too – spread before her eyes, enchanting her. She had to brace herself on one of the bulwarks not to surrender to dizziness. Prince Solo, next to her, looked at her face and grabbed her arm to check if she was alright. A tiny smile from her reassured him, and he took her arm gently to reach the main deck with her. “Princess of Alderaan” was going to set sail soon after to a destination she didn’t know, but discovering it during their journey would have been amazing. What did the Prince’s mother said, the beautiful women in purple she started to love? “My son needs someone who can make him know how much he could give to the world. Maybe someone who likes travelling as well.” She had looked at Rey. Her eyes sparkled._

_The vessel left the dock slowly, saluted by a huge crowd. The girl turned her head to threw a glance to Venezia, now small and far, more similar to a group of toy houses made of wood than a real city. She bowed to bid her goodbye, and tears running down her face were both melancholic and relieved._

_Prince Solo took her hand._

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you'll enjoy my story as much as I enjoyed writing it! And if you're curious about something you read, or if you simply want to talk about museums, buildings or the Carnival, feel free to drop a message on my Tumblr! You can find me at lion-hearted-wolf.tumblr.com :3  
> I really want to thank all the wonderful RFFA mods for their support and amazing hard work: they're talented, humble and kind, and being part of this project was an honor for me. Thanks Mneme and Mer for your patience and advice. Thanks to my dear fellow writers, because you are all amazing and talented. And thank you, my sweet Ailisea: without you, not a single word of this story would have been here.  
> You all deserve the best. ❤


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